Page 40 of Never Gonna Happen

‘I’ve got two,’ said Kelly. ‘First I’m going to take advantage of Beth being at school and actually look into opening my own salon, rather than just thinking about it.’

‘Good for you, Kel,’ said Emily, and she really meant it. She thought about the money she was stashing away for a future deposit on a house, and whether instead she could use some of it to help Kelly get things off the ground. She’d give it some more thought before she floated the idea and got Kelly’s hopes up.

‘I’ve got a bit of money saved, and Mum says she and Dad will help if they can.’ Emily pulled a dubious face and was glad Kelly couldn’t see her – her mum and stepdad didn’t have two pound coins to rub together and were constantly sponging off their daughter.

‘We’ll all help,’ she said, keeping the details of that offer vague for now. ‘What’s the other resolution?’

‘I’m getting back on the dating horse, Em. Relaunching myself like Cher in the nineties.’

‘Okaaay,’ laughed Emily. Carol had always said that Kelly had been born a decade after her time; her love for comeback Cher knew no bounds. ‘What’s the plan?’

‘It’s in two parts,’ said Kelly, doing her official TV presenter voice. ‘Part one involves no-strings sex with men who have their own teeth and hair. Part two is about long-term love with someone who isn’t a total fuckboy or a ghosting shit.’

Emily raised her eyebrows. ‘Wow. That’s a pretty low bar you’ve set there, Kel.’

‘I’m a thirty-year-old single mum who lives in a caravan park. I can’t afford to be fussy.’

‘Bullshit. You’re a successful woman of independent means with your own home and a beautiful daughter. You can definitely afford to be fussy.’

‘See, this is why I love you,’ squealed Kelly. ‘What are your resolutions? Other than learning to ride a horse and also Jamie.’

Emily honked with laughter. ‘The usual, I suppose. Be good at my job, save as much money as possible, keep up my fitness.’

Kelly yawned. ‘God, how boring.’

Emily smiled sadly. ‘I need to go. How about we do New Year all over again, next time I’m back in Chi?’

‘Can I still have party poppers?’

‘Course.’

‘Then yes, definitely. Happy New Year, mate.’

‘Happy New Year, Kel. Love you.’

Chapter Twenty-One

Emily walked over to the stables clutching two defrosted dinners, her stomach fizzing with jittery anticipation. The snow had started – just gently falling flakes for now, but with a heavy, bone-cold feeling in the air that suggested the sky might crack open at any moment.

Aside from the portentous weather, every one of Emily’s instincts was telling her that this was a bad idea. It was like Dubai all over again, knowing that something was going to happen and feeling entirely powerless to stop it. She felt like she was in a car on an icy hill, sliding inexorably towards the pile-up at the bottom. She’d keep stamping on the brakes until the very last second, just to say she’d tried. But the collision was inevitable.

Jamie appeared at the door in his black padded coat, running his hand through his hair and smiling nervously. She wondered what he’d been thinking about for the past few hours; whether he’d also played out this evening in his head. He took the containers of food and put them upstairs, then came back down in his Paul Smith scarf and a blue woolly hat, carrying a bottle of champagne and two wine glasses.

‘I’m afraid I don’t have any champagne glasses,’ he said.

‘I’m not sure I can drink it without the appropriate glassware,’ replied Emily in a fake posh voice.

Jamie laughed. ‘Come on, it’s warmer over here.’ He led her to the paddock at the back of the stables, where a crackling fire had been lit in a shallow pit. A low wooden bench was set against the wall just a few feet from the flames, forming a cover for a neat stack of logs. Jamie sat down and grabbed a couple from between his legs, then tossed them on to the fire.

The snow was falling more heavily now, settling on the hard ground like someone had shaken out a white blanket, but the swirling fat flakes fizzled out long before they reached the flames. Jamie popped the champagne cork, sending it soaring off into the darkness of the paddock, then poured it into the glasses and passed one to Emily. She took a sip and leaned against the wall, stretching her legs out towards the fire as a wave of heat washed over her. It was a feeling of pure contentment, like a cat in front of a radiator.

Jamie’s arm pressed against hers as he sat back, both of them lost in the moment and not feeling the need to say anything. She let her head fall on to his shoulder as he wrapped her cold hand in the warmth of his, entwining his fingers with hers and rubbing his thumb from her wrist to her knuckle. Everything about it felt so right, like the simple satisfaction of fitting two jigsaw pieces together.

‘Remind me again why we can’t be together,’ he asked quietly.

Emily smiled sadly, staring into the flames. ‘Because I work for your dad, and when you break my heart I’ll have to leave.’

Jamie turned to look at her, his expression curious. ‘Why would I break your heart?’